


Adrift

by CloudSpires1295



Series: Shay 'verse [18]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Demon Blood Addiction, Episode AU: s05e02 Good God Y'all, Episode AU: s05e03 Free to Be You and Me, Episode: s05e02 Good God Y'all!, Episode: s05e03 Free to Be You and Me, Gen, because sam did the Thing, fuck idk how to tag this shit, sibling awkwardness all around, sisfic coda, sisfic tag, they are going THRU it that's all you need to know, they don't know how to use their words
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:41:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27156088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloudSpires1295/pseuds/CloudSpires1295
Summary: Sisfic coda for 5x02, 5x03, and 5x04 aka "Good God Y'all", "Free to Be You and Me", and "The End".
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Shailene “Shay” Winchester & Amoya “Yaya” Wright, Shailene “Shay” Winchester & Castiel, Shailene “Shay” Winchester & Dean Winchester, Shailene “Shay” Winchester & Sam Winchester
Series: Shay 'verse [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/637277
Kudos: 5





	1. Cast Off

“I don’t trust him.”

Shay looked up from the ammo she’d been pilfering, sweeping it off the shelf and into a duffle bag. Dean had stopped sticking the shotguns he’d found into his own bag and was staring off into the middle distance. She frowned at him in confusion and concern.

“Don’t trust _who_?” she cocked her head to the side, feigning ignorance, “aside from Ellen, I don’t trust any of the people in that church.” The joking tone she’d gone for fell flat.

“Sam.” Dean uttered gruffly, “I don’t trust him.”

 _Of course_. Shay looked away, “uh… well… we’ve been with him pretty much 24/7 since the whole… _thing_ … maybe it’ll be fine.” _Who am I fucking kidding? I don’t trust him either_.

“You don’t trust him either,” Dean gave her a pointed look, “don’t bullshit me, I know you. This place’s s’posed to be crawlin’ with demons, who’s to say he won’t start jonesing for a fix in the middle of a fight?”

“Fine, I don’t trust him,” Shay admitted tersely, “he got high off that shit and almost _killed_ you in that motel room before he ran off with Ruby to spring Luci, and he probably would’ve done the same to me if I’d tried to fight him off,” the memory of that bone-chilling fear sent a shiver down her spine, “I _can’t_ just forget that. If he’d actually… I don’t know what I would’ve done.”

 _I would’ve tried to kill him myself_ , she admitted silently, _‘watch out for Sammy’ be damned._ It wouldn’t have been easy for her, but she would’ve either succeeded or died trying.

“I just – I don’t buy it,” Dean muttered, “that he’s suddenly all squeaky clean and shit. It doesn’t feel right.” He traced the tip of his finger along the side of one of the shotguns, lost in thought.

“Me either. It’s too fucking convenient.”

 _So this is what it’s come to,_ Shay mused bitterly, _shit talking about our baby brother behind his back_. She felt sick with shame.

“We better go make sure he’s not backsliding,” Dean tucked a few more guns into the bag and rose to his feet before shouldering the load, “you need help with the ammo?”

“N-no,” Shay blinked, snapping out of her melancholic stupor, “I got it.” She dumped a few more boxes of shells into the duffle and zipped it up, “let’s go.”

As she fell into step behind Dean, Shay fervently prayed that they wouldn’t be greeted to the sight of their little brother with crimson smeared around his mouth for the second time.

Before long, they made it to the Qwik Mart Sam had gone to in search of rock salt. Dean pulled the door open, making the bell over the door jingle merrily in greeting, and stepped back to let Shay enter ahead of him… only to pause.

Shay froze too, nose twitching.

The coppery scent of fresh blood was thick in the air.

The Winchester twins exchanged a loaded glance and Shay stepped back to let Dean take the lead. He eased into the shop on light feet, foot falls completely inaudible, “Sam?” he set one of the bags of guns down, out of the way, and reached for the gun at his back, ready for a quick draw.

Shay shadowed him, settling her own bag down and drawing her own gun. She shifted so she could keep both the entrance and Dean in her sights and used her thumb to flick the safety off.

A familiar head of mussed chocolate brown curls rose towards the back of one of the aisles, closer to the drink coolers, and Shay breathed a quiet sigh of relief… and faltered. So Sam was in one piece… but there was still blood in the air. She clicked her safety back into place and put her gun back in its holster.

Shay followed Dean to the head of the aisle and cringed at the dead bodies lying in growing pools of blood on the linoleum floor. They were young, probably mid-teens at best.

Sam stood between the two bodies, a sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead. Shay could tell he was trembling, and her eyes flicked down to the blood dribbling from the hilt of Ruby’s knife. Some of it had gotten onto his hand, and there was a bit of it on the thumb of his free hand.

Something about this whole situation struck her as odd, but Shay couldn’t put her finger on what it was.

Some of the tension in Dean’s back waned. He jerked his head towards the door, “we should head back.” Sam’s throat bobbed as he audibly gulped. He nodded jerkily before stepping over the body to get to them.

Shay pretended not to notice the way his gaze lingered on the still growing puddle of blood as he skirted around it.

**S ~ s ~ S**

Shay was in the middle of field stripping a shotgun when it hit her. Sam hadn’t too long left to find Jo with Ellen, leaving her and Dean to protect the townspeople. She finished dismantling the weapon and laid the pieces out on one of the tables before rising to her feet and heading out into the hallway, taking care not to mess up the salt line or the Devil’s Trap.

A few seconds later, Dean joined her, “what’s up?”

“The demons Sam killed at the corner store,” she murmured, “did anything about that whole thing seem funny to you?”

“Funny how?”

“There was blood everywhere, I was almost choking on the smell of it… but it didn’t smell like sulfur.” Shay turned to look at her twin imploringly, “the blood _always_ smells like sulfur. Something about this… this shitshow isn’t _right_.”

“You think we’re being played?”

“I think everyone involved is being played, I just don’t know how.” A knock on door made both Hunters jerk back to attention. Dean eased the door open a crack so he could peer into the hideaway.

The man with the glasses who’d been struggling to load a shotgun earlier – Roger wasn’t it – stared back at them. He glanced over his shoulder shiftily before asking, “something wrong?”

“Hunter business,” Dean told him tersely, “way above your paygrade, dude.”

“C’mon man, if something’s going down, we have a right to know.” He insisted, and went to push the door open a bit further. Dean stopped him, bracing against the door so it wouldn’t open wider.

“Everything’s fine… or as fine as it was before we came out here,” Shay barely kept her voice level, this whole situation had her on edge and the last thing she needed was a civilian questioning her, “we just wanted to talk in private. If something changes, you’ll be the _first_ to know.” A tinge of sarcasm colored her words.

 _Goddamn civvies_.

“Alright…” Roger reluctantly stood down, “it’s just – everybody’s really on edge, y’know?” he worried at the gold band on his left ring finger, the action riddled with anxiety. Shay’s eyes were drawn to the glinting metal for a moment, and then she frowned and looked away. So what; the dude was married, that wasn’t important.

“We know, but right now we just need to stay put and see what Sam and Ellen report when they get back,” Shay’s voice softened a bit further, “I’m sure we’ll get to the bottom of this in no time.”

“I’m sure you will,” Roger nodded once to both of them and ducked back into the room, leaving them to their conversation.

Somehow that last anecdote came off a bit… mocking. Shay blinked and turned back to Dean, silently raising her brows as if to ask, ‘ _what the hell?_ ’ He shrugged and rolled his eyes, “I mean, he’s not wrong. Maybe we should could keep the asides to a minimum so the locals can chill out a bit. Can’t blame ‘em for being jumpy.”

“True,” Shay acceded, “lets head back in. Sam and Ellen will probably be back with Jo in no time.” _And hopefully Sam’s magical miracle sobriety will continue to hold up_. She didn’t want to entertain the thought of having to explain to Ellen why Sam tore a demon’s throat out with his teeth and started guzzling their blood down like he was doing a keg stand down at Daytona during Spring Break. She cringed away from the visual, as well as the fantastical image of Sam doing a keg stand with demon blood, and followed Dean back into the church basement.

**S ~ s ~ S**

“Dean… Shay—”

“Sam, let’s not,” Dean cut in with a quick shake of his head. Shay looked away, inwardly grateful that he’d derailed the incoming mess that was surely about to ensue.

“I know you guys don’t trust me—”

Shay’s head jerked towards him, “Sammy…” it was true, but she hadn’t expected it to sting so much when he admitted he knew.

“—and the truth is, I don’t trust me either.”

The twins exchanged a _look_ at this, silent communication passing seamlessly between them, before facing their younger brother. Sam’s face fell even further.

“I know you guys talk about me – about what I’ve done behind my back and that’s fine,” he shrugged, “can’t exactly blame you. When I was in that store and I saw that blood,” he swallowed thickly, “I wanted it. There’s no point denying it, it’s the truth. If you two hadn’t walked in there when you did, I probably would’ve caved and started lapping it up off of the floor like a dog.” His cheeks flushed red with shame.

“I tell myself it's for the right reasons, my intentions are good, and it, it feels true, you know? But I think, underneath...I just miss the feeling. I know how messed up that sounds, which means I know how messed up I am. Thing is, the problem's not the demon blood, not really. I mean, I, what I did, I can't blame the blood or Ruby or...anything. The problem's me. How far I'll go. There's something in me that...scares the hell out of me, guys. In the last couple of days, I caught another glimpse...”

Shay closed her eyes and took a deep breath before whispering, “what are you saying?” she knew what was coming and she was a dizzying combination of relieved and reluctant.

Sam worried at his bottom lip, “I’m saying maybe I need to giving hunting up. I’m in no shape for this kind of work, not like this.” He sighed, “I need to step back, ‘cause I’m dangerous.”

For a brief moment, Shay saw the enraged, borderline psychotic demon-blood driven bulldozer who’d beaten Dean down and was ready to choke the life from him in her mind’s eyes. She could feel that cold fear paralyzing her as she watched her once-sweet, lovable baby brother become a total stranger before her very eyes. She remembered contemplating whether or not she’d have to put a bullet in him right then, if only to save Dean… and himself from what he’d been seemingly ready and willing to do. She swallowed back bile and lowered her gaze to the rugged wooden surface of the picnic table.

“Maybe it’s best we just… go our separate ways.”

“I think we _all_ need that,” Shay found herself adding in, to the surprise of Dean, “we need a breather,” she admitted, “it’s been one sucker punch after the other since you came back from hell, Dean. And Sam, since you… freed Lucifer… things have not been great and all of us have been basically ignoring it, staying together while things are so… _tense_ isn’t helping. We all need time to…” _to WHAT exactly? To cope? To come to grips? There’s no amount of coping that’ll change the fact that he unleashed Lucifer and kickstarted the end of times… how can we possibly forgive him for that?_

Shay swallowed thickly at the thought that maybe this mishap, if it could even be labeled as such, was just too much for either of them to forgive.

 _It’s your fault,_ a dark voice sang from the back of her mind, _you ran away and left poor little vulnerable, gullible Sammy all alone. Might as well just put him in a box and mailed him to Ruby’s doorstep. You have no room to be angry or unforgiving, this monster is of your own making._ Shay closed her eyes tightly, trying her best to banish the voice before it could overwhelm her.

Dean’s eyes darted between his younger siblings; his expression unreadable. They both watched him furtively, waiting for his deliberation. After a long moment, he sighed and murmured, “I think you’re both right.”

Shay swallowed; she hadn’t expected Dean to _agree_.

“We do need time,” he clarified, “and I worry more about you than I do about doing the job right, and I can’t have that right now, you know? Not with all this going on.” He eyed Sam critically, causing the younger Winchester to lower his gaze to the table.

“I’m sorry.”

Shay’s heart spasmed painfully, “I know you are, Sammy.” Everything in her, every big sister instinct demanded that she comfort her baby brother… but she couldn’t. She had to stay firm. Maybe things would look better once they all split up and cleared their heads. Time healed all wounds… right?

She was so lost in thought; she didn’t even notice and hear Dean saying his gruff goodbyes, or Sam leaving the table.

“So,” he turned to her, smiling sadly, “anywhere I can drop you off? I know your ‘Stang’s at Bobby’s…”

“Closest truck stop, I’ll hitch or commit some GTA,” she joked weakly, and then frowned, “are you gonna be okay on your own, De? If you want me to stay, I can—” she reached tentatively to touch his wrist.

“No, you’re right,” he shrugged her concern off and moved his arm out of her reach, “we need this. It’ll be good for us.” He rose from the picnic table and sauntered over to the Impala, leaving Shay alone with her thoughts.

 _He’s lying_.

Shay sighed morosely and pushed herself up from the picnic table, _maybe I should’ve just kept my mouth shut_. She disposed of the trash from their meal and slowly made her way over to the impala for what would likely be the most awkward car ride she’d ever endured.

Maybe they did need to fly solo for a while, maybe Sam needed to get out of the Life… possibly permanently, but Shay just wished it didn’t feel like she was carving pieces of her being out and setting them adrift.


	2. At Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shay's been hunting solo for the past few weeks since she parted ways with her brothers, and a chance encounter on a vamp hunt may be the start to something new...

Shay sprinted up the rickety old steps after the vamp, machete gripped firmly in hand. Her boots pounded on the partially rotted wooden porch as she entered the old two-story cabin, barely sidestepping the wooden chair that’d been thrown across the room. It crashed noisily against the half-rotted wall, reduced to kindling on contact. The fang, a dark haired female with a solid build, stopped just inside the kitchen area.

A second vamp appeared at the top of the stairs, a smaller female with short red hair. Shay could hear her low growl as she crept down the stairs and carefully situated herself to keep both her assailants in her line of sight. The back door swung open, letting three more fangs creep in. Despite now being in over her head, having run headlong into a trap she should’ve seen coming, the Hunter didn’t let it show. Her expression was carefully composed, a placid façade.

_Well fuck me_.

“Well,” one of the newest arrivals purred, “ain’t this a party?”

Shay barely held in the derisive snort that begged to be freed, instead tightening her grip on the hilt of her machete and weighing her odds. The only way she’d cheat death is if they attacked her one or two at a time but, _shockingly_ enough, that didn’t seem to be a likely scenario. She had three syringes of dead man’s blood tucked into the inside pocket of her jacket, maybe she’d get lucky and incapacitate a few.

_If Dad could see me now, he’d be so disappointed._ _I should’ve known this was a fucking trap._

“Did you lead the other one here, Lea?” the first vamp inquired her nest mate, eyes still trained on Shay’s rigid form.

“No,” Lea, a tall thin male, grumbled, “I thought she took the bait but she peeled off about a mile back. She was smarter than this one.” Shay blinked in confusion, and mild insult, wondering who the hell they were talking about. The first vamp sighed, eyes briefly fluttering closed, “well… looks like dinner’s gonna be a light meal.”

The little red headed vamp on the stairs huffed, “can y’all stop talking and get on with it, I’m _starving_.” Her bloodshot eyes raked hungrily over Shay and, as she licked her lips, she saw her second set of teeth begin to descend.

The dark haired vamp, obviously the de facto leader, began to advance on Shay, scoffing when she drew her machete back, and stopped almost three feet away. A frown formed on her face, and she looked down at her feet in apparent confusion. Shay followed her gaze and watched, with no small measure of confusion as she bent her knees as if to lift her feet, only for them to remain planted on the floor.

“What the hell are you doing, Audrey?” Lea snapped, “fucking kill her already.”

A small brown object flew through one of the busted windows to Shay’s left, landing somewhere in the kitchen with a soft thump. The three vampires’ heads snapped around to locate it and, not even three seconds later, all three of them spontaneously burst into flames.

Shay flinched back, caught entirely off guard as their pained howls and the cloying stench of burning hair and flesh rapidly filled the space. Audrey was still trying to move, her movements feverish with desperation, eyes wide and darting around. Her lips parted repeatedly, but no words came out.

Across the room, the tortured yowls were beginning to taper off as the human shaped bonfires slumped to the floor one by one.

“ _What the hell is this_?” The tiny red head darted down the rest of the stairs and across the room in a blink, grabbing Shay by the throat and hoisting her up off the floor, “Are you doing this? You’re a fucking _witch_?” With her free hand, she grabbed Shay’s machete hand and slammed it into the wall hard enough for something in it to pop painfully, sending the blade clattering noisily to the wood floor, “answer me, _bitch_.”

Shay shook her head frantically, gasping as the powerful grip began to compress her airway. A bone chilling snarl tore out of little Red’s throat as she reared back to sink her teeth into the Hunter’s jugular.

The Hunter wriggled desperately, trying to get her hand out of the vamp’s grip. Before she could manage it, an unseen force halted the descent of the little vamp’s teeth and pushed her across the room. She kicked and fought as the force dragged her to the far wall and pinned her there. Shay fell to the floor in a heap, barely avoiding landing on her machete.

The front door swung open, and the blonde turned to watch as a woman with purple streaked brown hair entered the cabin, eyes glowing a vivid shade of green. Her hands were raised, palms out and trained on both Audrey and the hangry spitfire yowling on the wall.

_I definitely didn’t come prepared for a witch!_

“ _Fuck_ … I’m sorry about that,” the woman smiled sheepishly, the faintest hint of a Caribbean accent coloring her smoky voice, “I didn’t know somebody else was hunting this nest.”

Shay’s eyes darted over the woman, noting the dark wash button down, plain dark purple t-shirt underneath, the well-worn jeans and the dirty boots, as well as the machete at her waist and the silver bracelet adorned with occult charms jangling on her right wrist.

For a split second, she had a flashback of her first time meeting Rebekah, specifically how the morning sunlight glinted off of the charms on her bracelet when she’d raised a hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear mid-laugh.

_A witch and a Hunter…?_

“ _Um_ ,” the mysterious woman shot a pointed look at Shay, “if you could take her block off, that’d be great. I can’t hold them both for too much longer.”

“Oh, _oh!_ ” Shay inwardly kicked herself, “sorry.” She drew her machete back, ignoring the pleading look Audrey sent her way, and let it fly. The blade, sharp as all hell, made quick work of taking her head off. A bit of the tacky arterial spray splattered against her cheek.

The sight of her nest mate’s body hitting the floor sobered little Red right up. The petite vamp stopped fighting the immobilization spell and turned a rather impressive set of puppy dog eyes on them as Shay approached, absently kicking Audrey’s head out of her path.

“ _Ple_ —”

Whatever she’d been about to say cut out with a scream as the witch hunter snapped her fingers. Fire licked up her body, eating away at it like dead grass in dry season, consuming her entirely in a matter of seconds.

The stranger breathed a sigh of relief as she let her hands drop to her sides, “thank fuck, that was the last bit of juice I had in me,” she continued on, ignoring the bloody machete that suddenly came up to rest not even an inch from her throat, “I’ve been tracking this nest for almost two weeks. I’m Amoya Wright, pleasure to meet you,” she offered a hand and a warm smile as the green glow left her eyes completely, revealing their true golden brown color.

Shay furrowed her brows at Amoya, eyeing her hand with distrust, “why the hell are you so calm when I have a machete at your throat?”

“You think this is the first time I’ve been held at knife point after using magic in front of a normie Hunter?” Amoya snorted, “that cherry’s been popped, hon. Machete’s a new one though,” she hummed thoughtfully, “usually it’s a gun or a hunting knife.”

Completely thrown off by Amoya’s blasé attitude, Shay slowly lowered her machete to her side and tentatively shook the offered hand with her free one, “Shailene Winchester.”

“Not ‘ _Winchester_ ’ as in ‘ _the Winchesters’_?” Amoya inquired, eyes wide, “the poor fuckers that stay mixed up in an apocalypse every time the lower paygrade Hunters so much as sneeze?”

“The very same,” Shay couldn’t help the amused snort she let slip, “I had some free time between apocalypses, figured I’d clean out this nest… but, as you can see, I bit off a little bit more than I could chew.” She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, “thanks for the save, by the way.”

Amoya raised an unimpressed brow, “if I hadn’t shown up, you would’ve been _dead_. A ‘ _little bit more than I can chew_ ’ is a _hell_ of an understatement.” A smirk formed on her lips, “I like you.”

Shay, frowning at the tacky blood on her blade, looked up at that remark, rather eloquently responding with an, “eh?” Amoya threw her head back and laughed, “c’mon,” she jerked her chin towards the door, “let’s get out of here. I gotta burn this cabin down.”

“ _We_ gotta burn this cabin down,” Shay corrected, finally catching her bearings, “I didn’t do most of the work, but I killed one. I’ll help.”

“ _I_ held her still so _you_ could kill her. That kill’s at _least_ 55 percent mine.”

“ _I_ still killed her so _I’m_ helping. Tough it out, smartass.”

“Pushy,” the shorter Hunter teased, leading the way out the front door, “you wouldn’t happen to have anything to start a fire on you, would you?”

“Uh,” Shay side-eyed her fellow Hunter, “can’t you just,” she snapped her fingers in example, “do what you did with the vamps?”

“Didn’t you hear me when I said I was out of juice?” Amoya plodded down on the porch steps, face turned up towards the moonlight as if basking in it, “I couldn’t light a match right now. I have to recharge.” she turned to look at Shay, who remained at the top of the stairs looking off into the distance with narrowed eyes, “what’s with the face, Shailene?”

“Well, we can’t burn down the cabin right now,” Shay hedged, tightening her grip on her blade, “because the cavalry just decided to show up.”

Three more vamps emerged from the tree line, slightly crouched with their teeth bared. Shay plodded down the steps to stand at Amoya’s side, planting her feet and taking a defensive stance, “I hope you’re good with a machete.”

“ _Hunter_ and a witch, I’m an all-around athlete,” she drew her own blade and shifted into a defensive stance, “let’s get this fucking show on the road.”

“It’s _Shay_ , by the way.”

“ _Huh_?”

“Nobody calls me Shailene, everyone just calls me Shay.” Shay elaborated, flushing a bit, “also, you wanna go out for drinks after this?”

“ _Drinks_ ,” Amoya hummed thoughtfully, “sounds fun. Everyone calls me _Yaya_ , since we’re clearing that up at this _most_ opportune time.”

The Hunters shared a quick glance and a snicker before focusing on the task at hand. All three of the vamps began to sprint, and Shay slid a hand inside her jacket, drawing two syringes from the inner pocket. She popped the plastic caps off and passed one to Yaya, “this was my plan B.”

Yaya took the offered syringe, “ _yeah_ , like it would’ve made a difference with _five vamps_ ,” and side-stepped the first vamp to reach them, burying the needle in their side and depressing the plunger.

Shay did the same with the second, “a girl can dream,” leaving the third to stop just short of them, not willing to risk it.

“What’s wrong?” Yaya flashed her empty hand at them, “we’re all out, hon. You can come play if you want.”

“ _Murderers_ ,” the vamp hissed, “you destroyed our nest.”

“Yeah, well maybe if you guys hadn’t been picking off drunk teenagers all up and down I-90, you wouldn’t be in this mess,” Shay shrugged dismissively, drawing her machete back, “there’s always animal blood.” She brought the blade down, decapitating one of the incapacitated creatures at her feet.

Yaya whistled softly, kicking the second vamp over to her, “finish that one off. I got the live one.”

“You got like 4 and three-ish quarters of the kills in the cabin,” Shay grumbled, watching her ease up on the third vampire. Nonetheless, she quickly and succinctly removed the second blood sucker’s head from their shoulders, taking care to lean back to avoid the spray.

“4 and _three-ish quarters_?” Yaya shot a quick, incredulous look over her shoulder, “I would’ve gone half and half with you on that last one, if I felt like being generous.”

Shay responded with a bored look, moving a bit closer as she and the vamp began circling. A wry smirk formed on the Winchester’s lips when the vampire stopped herself before she could put herself between the two Hunters, she’d hoped that she would’ve been able to steal the last the kill.

“It’s gonna be hell finding a bar or roadhouse that’s still open by the time we’ve wrapped this all up so could you, oh… I dunno, _speed it up_?” Shay drawled, sarcasm dripping from each word.

In response, Yaya’s eyes briefly flashed green and the fingers of her free hand twitched ever so slightly. Shay frowned, wondering what the hell she’d just done, when she spotted the thick brown vines that’d emerged from the soil, coiling over the vampire’s ankles and feet and holding her in place.

“I thought you said you were out of juice.”

“I recharge pretty quick under direct moonlight,” she replied, “sunlight too, but moonlight’s best. The closer it is to being full, or _actually_ being full, the shorter my refractory period.” Yaya then made quick work of the last vamp and smiled brightly, practically bouncing back over to the blonde.

Shay squinted curiously at her and jerked back instinctively when her hand shot out, palm up in a silent demand. The shorter Hunter snickered and chirped, “give me your phone.”

“Maybe we should make sure no one else is coming along behind these three before we exchange numbers… and _maybe_ handle the bodies and burn this asbestos-riddled POS cabin down first.”

Yaya visibly deflated, “getting ahead of myself, my bad.” She knelt down, placed a hand flat against the grassy earth, and closed her eyes. There was a pulse of… _something_ that spread outward from her and passed through Shay before continuing on. A few minutes later, the curious energy passed through the Hunter again, returning from whence it came.

“We’re clear,” Yaya looked up, the bright green glow slowly leaching from her hazel eyes, “wanna just put the bodies in the cabin and light it up? I think I can manage a house fire now.”

“What the hell was _that_?”

“A sort of tracking spell,” the mocha skinned huntress looked exceedingly bored as she explained the pulse, “something I cooked up myself, made to find any monsters close by. It has a five mile radius. Now,” she waved her hands towards the cabin, “let’s get these bodies in the shitty cabin so we can dance around the fire for a bit and then go grab a coupla’ cold ones.”

**|*~*s*~*S*~*s*~** * **|**

“Alright,” Yaya passed Shay’s cellphone back to her with a flourish, “call me whenever you need a hand with a job. My hub’s near Lebanon Kansas but I like to venture out sometimes.” She grabbed her beer and took a hefty swig.

Shay stared at the new contact information for a moment before tucking her phone away and grabbing her own beer. She was working her way up to her fifth beer, but the buzz was starting to hit her. She turned to the shorter Hunter and told her, thoughtlessly, “your eyes are so pretty.”

Amoya turned to look at her new acquaintance, surprised and flattered, “why thank you,” she simpered, “yours aren’t so bad, either.” She turned to face Shay more fully, “so where’re you headed after this?”

“I don’t know yet,” the blonde admitted, “I’m kinda drifting around at the moment.”

Yaya squinted curiously at Shay, “I didn’t want to ask because we just met, but aren’t you Winchesters usually a package deal?”

“Yeah, well,” Shay polished off the last of her fourth beer with a rough swallow, “shit happens.” She signaled the bartender to bring her a fifth, pointedly ignoring the concerned look the Hunter-Witch was sending her way.

“’m sorry,” she mumbled, sliding her empty beer bottle back and forth between her hands, “that was rude. We’re just having some family issues, y’know.”

“I get the feeling that your family issues are a bit different than the standard family issues.”

“You’re not wrong,” Shay smiled sadly as the bartender placed a fresh beer in front of her, “I think the time apart will do us some good.” She nodded once as if to reassure herself and took a long drink from the new beer.

“You miss them don’t you?” Yaya asked bluntly.

“ _God_ , yes,” the blonde Hunter breathed, “it doesn’t feel right,” she admitted, “being alone. I haven’t been on my own in five years, give or take, and it might not seem like that much time… but,” she swallowed roughly, “ _a lot_ has happened since then.” _Too much_.

“I hear that,” the Hunter-witch clinked her beer against Shay’s in commiseration, “I’ve got three of them, two older and one younger. They drive me absolutely nuts, but when I swing by my parents’ place after being on the road for months and they happen to be around… it’s like a missing piece falling into place. I never really notice how much I miss ‘em until I see ‘em again.”

“Your parents?” Shay raised a brow, “are they Hunters?”

“Yeah,” Yaya smiled, “they’re not as big a deal in the Hunter world as you Winchesters, but they’ve been around the block. They’re semi-retired now. All of us are a part of this whole thing to some extent.”

“And they’re okay with you Hunting? I mean,” the blonde shrugged, “if I had kids, the last thing I’d want is for them to end up on this career path.”

“They didn’t encourage it, if that’s what you’re getting at,” the mocha skinned Hunter worried at her bottom lip, “but they made sure we knew what was out there when we were coming up. It was always our decision, being Hunters.”

_Huh_. Shay inwardly marveled at the idea of having parents that didn’t shove Hunting down your throat but made sure that you knew how to protect yourself. “Which one of them did you get your magic from?” she inquired, curious as to how the whole thing worked genetically.

“Both, actually,” Yaya laughed, “my dad comes from a long line of voodoo practitioners and Obeah. According to my Granny, their bloodline can be traced back to Marie Laveau herself,” the eye roll following that anecdote belied that she didn’t buy that particular factoid, “my mother’s family hails from the Yoruba tribe in Nigeria. My great grandmother considered their magic to be a blessing from the Orisha. I don’t really know if that one’s true or not, considering what we know about pagans and all but we _do_ have a _lot_ of natural born magic users in the family. All my siblings have the gift.”

“Huh,” Shay murmured, “that’s pretty cool. Did Hunting always run in the family?” she was still having trouble wrapping her mind around the idea of there being witches that were also Hunters, but she was slowly warming up to the idea.

“Nope, not until a few generations back,” Yaya’s expression darkened, “but that’s a story for another time.” It was clear that whatever it was that brought her family into the Life wasn’t particularly pleasant to recant.

“You’re asking all these questions,” the mocha skinned Hunter side eyed her companion, “but I bet if I asked more questions about your family, you won’t be nearly as loose lipped.”

Shay smiled thinly, choosing not to respond or elaborate. In her pocket, her phone vibrated, signaling a text. The Hunter withdrew the device and opened the message.

It was from Dean. He wanted them to meet up in Kansas City.

_Why now?_

As much as she missed being near her brothers, Dean more so than Sam as of late, the thought of leaving the little bubble wrapped around herself and Amoya was… somewhat abhorrent. However, she knew that she wasn’t about to refuse him. She turned to Yaya to let her know and found the Hunter-witch smiling almost morosely.

“That one of your brothers?”

“Yeah,” Shay mumbled, “he wants to meet up in Kansas City…”

“Oh, that’s right up my alley,” Yaya’s smile brightened, “we can ride down together. Not ‘ _together_ ’ together, separate cars and all, but we can make the trip together if you’d like… unless…”

“I can’t stop you from sharing the road with me, but I think it’ll be best that you don’t meet Dean,” Shay cringed apologetically, “he’s not as _lenient_ as I am… and I almost took your head off.”

“Ah,” Yaya grimaced, “right. Well uh… the offer still stands. I’m headed home to Lebanon anyway, I’m overdue a visit to my parents as it is so I won’t be sticking around once we hit the state line.” There was a trace amount of steel in her voice.

“Oh. Okay.” She worried at her bottom lip, wondering if she’d just misstepped somehow.

“The offer still stands, y’know,” she slid off of her stool and slapped a few twenties down on the countertop, “for working jobs together sometime down the line. Also,” Yaya gave her a searching look, “if you ever need a listening ear, just text. I won’t promise that I’ll respond right away, I’m shit at texting back on time, but I _will_ eventually shoot a message back. That’s for both our tabs,” she jerked her chin towards the money, “I’ll see you around, cheri.”

Amoya was gone before Shay could muster a response, and her absence left the blonde Hunter feeling somewhat bereft in a completely different way than she did without her brothers. She hadn’t felt anything like it since she’d been with Rebekah.

_Wait a minute, did she just…?_

Shay slid the money over to the bartender and left her beer half-finished. _She just gave me a pet name… a French pet name. What the hell?_ She made her way out of the bar and meandered over to her ‘ _borrowed_ ’ car, swerving a bit from all the drinking she’d done.

Oddly enough, she didn’t even mind the nickname. The thought of having made enough of an impression on the other Hunter for her to do so made her chest flood with warmth.

Tonight’s Hunt definitely made top 10 weirdest encounters she’d ever had while working a job, but she wouldn’t change any of it for the world.

“Alright, De’,” Shay mumbled to herself as she plopped into the driver’s seat, “I’m gonna go find a motel to crash in for the night… and then I’m headed your way.”

_Enough drifting around aimlessly, it’s time to get back in the game_. The apocalypse wasn’t going to end itself after all.

Shay gave the parking lot one last cursory glance, searching for the black Jeep Cherokee she’d followed to the roadhouse only to come up empty. She stared at the cell phone she’d laid on the passenger seat for a moment, and then started the car and pulled off onto the barren late night streets.

_I hope I see her again. Maybe our paths will cross again in the future_ …

Yes, the whole ‘ _hunter and a witch_ ’ thing was still a bit of a mind bender, but Yaya made it worth trying to understand, if only to get to know her better. As for meeting again… she now had a direct line to make that happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate the ending. I don’t know if you can tell, but I tried to end it like a million times and it wouldn’t let me be great. The bar scene was also written in half, if that makes sense. I had the first part done and then the second part came to me later and the mood completely changes mid-way and I hate that nothing I switch around makes it any better.
> 
> Will Shay and Yaya become a thing later on? Maybe, maybe not. Right now, the goal is to build up their friendship properly so that, if things take that turn, they’ll have a good foundation. Also, for those of you who read all of [“Family Reunion”](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7664320) you’d know that Rebekah’s not dead, but Shay thinks she is. I have a plan for her, but I’m not sure how I want to execute it. More on that later. I hope you guys enjoyed the read.
> 
> *~*CloudSpires1295*~*

**Author's Note:**

> I hate the ending. A little on the nose and kinda dry. Here we go. Season 5 is such a bittersweet season for me. The writing for it was so good. I hope you guys enjoyed the read.  
> [*~*CloudSpires1295*~*](https://asphodel2310.tumblr.com/)


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